


you feel like home.

by andialmostdo



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Steve Rogers Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-24 02:40:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17696063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andialmostdo/pseuds/andialmostdo
Summary: in which steve and the reader live in the moment.





	you feel like home.

between seconds and the silence of his home, steve has lost track of time. he’s lost track of how long he’s been lying on his bed, making out with his lover – but it was a thing of _pure ecstasy_. the tips of his fingers stung and his heart pounds so loud in his chest that he swears he can hear it in his ears. steve lies above her carefully, his hands planted beneath the both of them, pressing into the mattress. 

it’s all a thrill ride of kissing and loud hearts until his phone buzzes on the side table beside him. with every pit of might he can muster, steve pulls away, delivering one last kiss to his sweetheart before letting out a huff, reaching over aimlessly to grab his phone. “well, shit.” he mumbles, out of breath. “it’s tony stark.” a laugh escapes him now, his eyes closing for a moment. “what a buzzkill.” steve decides not to answer, letting it ring and ring until it stops. “bruce’s birthday is coming up – i’m sure he’s just calling to make sure i’m coming home to be there with him.” with a breathy grunt, steve stretches over to place his phone back onto the table, allowing his gaze to avert back to his girl shortly after, brushing the tip of his nose against hers gently. he _already_ misses kissing her. “you okay?” 

* * *

in the near silence of their human noise, she can hear her heart beating. she can hear both their hearts beating. the rhythm and volume so similar in vigor that it’s nearly impossible to differentiate; she can only tell them as two when one snares or skips ahead. there is no brisk morning that has ever dared to make her mouth raw in the same fashion of the welcome, repetitive warmth that steve’s does. very nearly, does she resist the urge to reach for his swollen lips as they part — mostly because any unnecessary movement might shatter the fragile brilliance of a moment like this. it would take _so little_ for the small distance between their chests to break and every good thing to come crumbling down in the process. want has nothing to do with it; if she had her way, the sliver of her eye color left ringed around the deep dark of her eyes wouldn’t be the only evidence of that. she wears thin, willing should steve only ask the question when they’re like this. the phone call comes bittersweet in that way. without its interruption she might have been the one revealing unspoken family history. 

what little she can do not to appear as flushed as he is, she does but what she can’t do, she allows herself. she is safe here, she remembers. steve’s face dips back into her orbit and her mouth is already twisted upwards at the corner to meet his arrival. it does not matter that their contact comes elsewhere. she does not dip upward to kiss him, though she wants to. she has no voice left to ask whether she can and she refuses still to amuse her right. her hands are less cautious, flitting upward to brush a thumb over steve’s matching set of kiss bruised lips; cards the other set of five through hair previously mused by the same culprits. the question warms her considerably, which is a considerable feat considering her heat already. she merely cants _just_ to the right and hums her affirmative reply. she is careful not to let their chests brush as she pulls in a deeper breath. “will you be gone long?” she whispers, voice too raspy from disuse and headiness to be of more volume. 

* * *

there wasn’t much that needed to be said between kiss bruised lips and the thump of rhythm that spirals between their chests, barely touching in love’s hidden and unspoken pursuit. there was a voice for her inside of steve, one that didn’t need to come from her throat and out her mouth. steve _already knew_ , even without anything being said in terms of it. for now they could keep it between their lips closed together and pounding hearts, if they both wish. it was fine this way, steve was fine this way. but perhaps fine was an understatement. 

it’s a sentiment said before, one seemingly _cliche_ in comparison to the rest of what’s been said and done between their encounters together from picnic dates to kissing on mattresses, but steve would live in moments like this forever, or for as long as he could. he’d swim in each shade of color her eyes hold and listen to every trace of white noise and her chanting heart that once lived in her chest but lies comfortably in the palm of steve’s hand now, beating for him and the hours they spend. steve is just the same. 

her touch is instantly welcomed and steve leans into it, finding home in the palm of her hand, right where his heart resides. steve is careful, as well, to not let anything else touch, his hands still pressed to the mattress below them, despite the _slow burn_ that lines his insides. a hum of his own sounds from his throat at her question, a dazed smile gracing his features. “not long. no promises, though. my family is fickle.” his wandering gaze finally sets onto her mouth again, a sense of pride bubbling inside of him at the sight of them. kiss bruised and pretty, that’s his first thought. steve doesn’t move to kiss her either, though he so desperately wants to. “being with my family is like entering into another world or maybe just another reality, one that’s so still but somehow fleeting at the same time. especially with tony. he’s got a way of making the walls come down when he steps into a room. the others just the same.” his bottom lip tucks between his top and bottom teeth as he searches for more words, finding that her lips seem _more promising_ than words themselves. “will you still be here?” 

* * *

framed in by steve’s arms, she is a polaroid picture. contained only by the inability to see more than the scene captured on film. she doesn’t feel trapped by the edges, only warmed by their intentions to keep her safe. steve’s strength astounds her. surely, had it been turned around, her balance or composure would have given way by now. the corner of her mouth quirks, an upward tick of fondness. they call it _being in love_ for a reason, she thinks. the slight pressure that leans into her at steve’s easy acceptance of her touch sparks flames out of the simmering embers of his blue eyes. she, once again, is burning. she hopes it to be far from the last of her small deaths. doubts, even, that it will be. 

fickle family is an area she is unfortunately well versed. her heart muscles contract painfully at the thought of it. complicated things, people. she hates to think of anyone crumbling the weight bearing walls of steve’s room without his consent. houses are such fragile things; easier to come by than homes. she wonders what steve considers the place he’ll be returning to. asking seems like too much, though. she settles into the silence instead, waiting. her eyes watch teeth capture flesh in a stall for words; watches as they form a question she wasn’t (but perhaps should have been) expecting. _will you still be here?_

the cornered uptick widens, melting her expression into something that seems less and less foreign these days: a laugh, more in vibration than actual sound, though the smile attached leaves no room for doubt. she is almost startled by her own reaction, if only for half a beat. the previous worries have dissipated, purified by the flames licking up the inside of her chest in the threat of total consumption. hands abandon their posts, allowing fingers to find purchase in the fabric of steve’s shirt. an another humming exhale, and she gently _tugs_ her permission for steve to collapse against her – chest to chest. it is a recklessness unprecedented given the two, thin layers between skin to skin contact and the lingering heat that has likely made prominent everything she wishes to keep hidden. it is as much as promise as anything can be — though she refuses to admit it, she’s sure if anyone would know, steve rogers would. “you’ll know where to find me.” it is not a _yes_ but it might as well be. 

* * *

the hazy head of steve rogers is made up of all things about his lover. to him, she looks unreal in this light, under the frame that was him, kiss bruised and wanting more. steve was stuck in that same dazed fog, each passing stupid beat of his heart moreblissful than the next. he never thought he’d enjoy being who he was until moments like this. steve was so truly and utterly alive and he’s never loved it more. by now, drop a single cigarette and the entire world would burst into flames. steve would happily go down with it all because with the company that was her, anything seemed possible then. even with the flimsy being steve so _helplessly was_. 

now laughter fills the room, swirling in the air above their heads and being as careless and hazy as they’ve been for the last few hours. as she is startled by her own reaction, steve is just the same. small bursts of laughter sound in him, his beating, _blissfully_ thumping chest shaking with each beat – and damn, it is a wonderful fucking feeling. his heart bursts, his eyes sparkle, his skin simmers, and the world explodes. it’s steve and his sweetheart in a pile of ash and dust and suddenly they’re resilient, twisting and laughing and becoming every little beat that flutters in them, daring to burst from their chests and spread whatever winged things they obtain. 

once he’s being tugged forward, colliding carefully but carelessly into her, he’s _stunned_. it’s a thrill ride sort of stunned, though. the pads of his fingers sting and everything seems to collide now. it was warmth and it was light, a _feeling too much_ sort of sensation paired with the gasoline lined insides that bare the burning match that so drastically dangles above him. with a careful hand and hesitant temptations, steve reaches his hand upwards to card through her hair. his expression is softer than before, his giddy smile falters and the world around him dulls to a simmer, but still enough to leave him with burns. the thought of leaving this is enough to send him spiraling. steve doesn’t want to leave, he doesn’t want to move a single inch. 

“always so profound,” he replies, eyebrows raising just slightly, his tone as soft as his expression. the tip of his nose just grazes hers and it’s enough to start a chain reaction. his lips are too close for his head to think straight, his heart just the same. they both _ache_ for the same release of having his mouth to hers again and the need for it is enough to be equal to whatever he might feel once he’s away from her. steve leans in again, allowing their lips to touch just slightly before he kisses her fully once again, allowing it to be a _not so chaste_ peck – but a peck, nonetheless. “i like you an awful lot, you know. but maybe that goes without the need for words now.” 

**Author's Note:**

> this was written ages ago and any mistakes are all mine! hope you enjoyed. <3


End file.
